


Visualisation

by Jay_Dayy



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alzheimer's Disease, Anorexia, Aquaphobia, Bad Writing, Both have eating issues, Child Neglect, David is a teacher, Emotionally Repressed, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Highschool AU, Homophobic Language, I love Camp Camp too much, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Max is edgy, Maxpres, Nightmares, OOC, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Preston is edgy, Preston's parents are dead, References to Depression, Sexual Coercion, Suicide Attempt, Theatre, Verbal Abuse, dadvid, gwenvid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Dayy/pseuds/Jay_Dayy
Summary: Preston had a predictable life nowadays. He would go to school, go from class to class, stay after school building the stage, endure a hangout session with Nurf, and go home to take care of his grandmother. He was comfortable with his normal, but when familiar faces pop up once again in his life, things take a turn and he's forced to go off script.





	1. Act one

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I messed up and sent an unfinished draft, so here's a rushed version of the real one!
> 
> NOT BETA READ BECAUSE I'M TRASH
> 
> plus lol how do you write Max?

_[The curtains rise to reveal Preston, who looked clearly bedraggled and exhausted. His once neat and prim hair now pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head. He's sitting in the middle of a broken stage.]_

"Where the FUCK do I start?" Preston exclaimed to himself, raking his hands through his hair - a nervous habit of his that he's trying to break for the sake of his hair. The stage around him was in various stages of disrepair, as the school never focused on the arts and put all their funding into maths and science. It was disgusting to even look at. The stage curtains were moldy and damp, the wood had begun to rot, and all the props and costumes were soaked from a leak in the ceiling.

It should be a crime to let what could've been a beautiful stage go so far into disrepair, but the boy was determined to fix this up, start a drama club, preform plays, get noticed by a broadway show director, get a main role in a musical, get rich, marry a nice man, and get three dalmatian-pitbull mixes and name them Moo, Spot, and Milk.

Big dreams was an understatement for Preston. He's already planned what his penthouse would look like, what color drapes would he have, and how many children he would adopt. It was likely never of that would happen, but he has to pretend he believes it will so the future isn't unknown.

So there he sat on the middle of a devastated stage and checked his watch. He had promised Nurf he would meet him behind the school in thirty minutes, which meant he had to pack up his tools so he wasn't late. Preston didn't want to make him mad again. Nurf was a different person when he was mad, so it was good to stay on his good side! As Preston gathered his nails and hammer, he felt his gut twist with dread. Why was he suddenly so scared? Preston met up with Nurf every day and it usually went well, so why was he dreading to see his beloved?

Nurf was a good man, he just had a temper and didn't put up with Preston making mistakes. It was acceptable, then, because Nurf didn't like hurting him, but he did it to help him become better. Plus, Preston would leave if it got out of hand! Nurf was one of his first boyfriends, although not his first love... But Nurf provided for him, hugged him, kissed him, held his hand... So Preston forgives him.

Preston let out a frustrated grunt as he dropped a box of screws and gingerly kneeled down to pick them up, grumbling as his sore muscles cried in pain. It was okay, because Preston was now growing used to the soreness caused by constantly being on the run. He barely slept and was constantly doing something, like helping his grandma, running to and from school since he can't afford a car, hanging out with Nurf. Now Preston barely even slept as he had to stay up until 2:00 a.m. to finish his homework and he had to get up at 5:40 a.m. to get his grandmother's medicine sorted for the day.

It seemed bad, but it was his normal. His life was like a script, and Preston had already memorized his lines. Life for him was predictable, just how he liked it. Preston enjoyed knowing what came next, although he used to love improv as a child at Camp Camp, excited for the unknown and having to make up your own story, but now as the years have gone by Preston had learned that the unknown was a cruel, unmerciful being that didn't have pity on everyone. It was better to have a predictable, yet possibly mundane life than never knowing what would come next.

His daily life could be described as organized chaos, with taking care of grandma who isn't all there and trying to balance high school on top of his relationship was quite the act. He went through each day figuring out ways to save time so he could have time to himself for once, but since life seems to find new ways to fuck you over, he has no time to write, act, or sing anymore. Was he selfish for being upset over that? Maybe. But Preston's passion was performance, and it crushed him that the only person who really cares about his talent is his grandma who barely remembers his name.

She was the only person Preston had left since his parents both... Disappeared on vacation. Preston could remember when he got the news nearly three days after returning home after Camp Camp ended. His parents were one of the biggest supporters of his talent in permance art and now they were just snatched from him.

Things changed after that. His laughter became muted and dull, he ripped his yellow ruff to pieces in anger, and even the most cheerful Broadway tune couldn't lift his spirits anymore. He wished he could go back to Camp Camp in that little pocket of the woods where he felt safe and hidden away from the world. He missed his friends, he missed his innocence and spirit.

A week after that, Preston noticed that not only grandma's hearing was fading, but her mind as well. She began to forget where she was and what she was doing. At age eleven Preston became her caretaker; ditching school to stay home and make sure she didn't burn the house down. He had to grandma-proof the house by figuring out how to remove locks so she couldn't trap herself in a room, he had to get outlet covers, and one horrid night he had to lock her in her room as she grew hysterical.

Nothing can break someone as quickly. His childhood was stolen from him, and he'd never be the same again.

He snapped out of his deep thought and went back to surveying the damage done to this room.

It was odd, but Preston could sense something new in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it. Was it the chill from winter approaching? Was it the footsteps coming down the hallway towards the theatre? Just as he looked back down towards the spilled screws, The theater doors slammed open and he jolted, started by the unrecognizable silhouette standing in the doorway, looking around the theater in what Preston assumed was disgust.

"Who's there?" Preston called, squinting at the lanky figure. He knew them from somewhere, yet couldn't figure out where. They figure waved at him and walked forwards into Preston's field of vision where he could make out his wide, toothy grin and auburn hair that stuck up. Preston's jaw dropped as he quickly realized who his secret visitor was. It was a person he used to dread seeing each day at 6:00 when he would wake up the campers, but now he felt a warmness in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. He had missed the perky man.

"What the shit?! David, is that you?" Preston guffawed in a mix of surprise and amazement, he shuffled over to the edge of the stage to look David up and down.

His teal eyes still haven't lost their luster, unlike Preston's now dull amber eyes. David really hadn't changed at all except for his outfit, as he's abandoned his hiking outfit for a green button up and brown slacks, but he still kept his sunshine yellow scarf still. It brought back memories of summer camp with all his friends, gleefully putting on a play that was a total disaster, but he got to be around a certain person a lot so he considered it a fond memory, even if Preston didn't normally look back at failure fondly.

Wait, why was David tearing up? Did Preston offend him with the swearing?

Preston was suddenly smothered in a hug and was nearly yanked off the stage by the vivacious man, who held him out at arms length and looked at him fondly, happy tears gleaming in his eyes. Preston laughed - something he hasn't done in a while - and escaped his glasp to sit on the stage to talk to David, who was practically bouncing like a toddler on cocaine. It was weird to see how although Preston has become more muted, David hadn't at all.

"What the fuck are you doing here, David?" What normally would be an aggressive question, it was good-natured and said with a smile.

"Languag-" David began before chuckling, "I keep forgetting you're not a child anymore! Well, since Camp Campbell is closed due to-" David's expression changed drastically, his smile into a wistful frown, "due to repairs, I got a job here as a music teacher. I figured I should come in and see what the theater programs they offer here!" David looked around, his smile returning slowly but surely. Preston had heard about the storm and how a tree destroyed several cabins, but he knew it would be up and running next summer.

"Look at how fucked up this 'stage' is, David!" Preston exclaimed, standing to pace around angrily, "I asked them, no, BEGGED them for a theater program and THIS is what I get!? Look at this, David!" He spread his arms open, "It smells like mold and the floorboards are about to collapse under my weight. I don't think I can handle this shit, David! I can barely manage to tie my shoes correctly! How am I going to be able to fix a stage, if the only woodcrafting experience I have is building bird houses at camp!?"

"Hey now! That's no way to talk!" David was just as optimistic as he remembered. He was just as annoying as Preston remembered, "All you need is some new curtains and a friend to keep you company while you work!" At this Preston rolled his eyes. He had no one here. No friends... No favorite teachers (except David)... He had no one to turn to but Nurf, who mocked his theater work and said it was "faggot shit" and to stop "acting so queer so people stop making fun of you."

Yep. His boyfriend just told him to stop being gay.

Preston checked his watch and visibly paled. He was late. Super, duper late to meet with Nurf. David was oblivious to Preston's fear and continued saying encouraging things to Preston about teamwork and how friendship is one of the most important things in the world. In Preston's opinion, keeping Nurf happy was one of his top priorities along with taking care of his grandma and keeping her healthy. Friendship was very low on his list right now. He had better things to do.

God, Nurf was going to be pissed. Preston pulled his sleeves down to not show the bruises that vaguely looked like hands wrapping around his wrists.

"God DAMMIT! It was nice to see you, David, but I have to go! I'm gonna get fucking punishe-" He knew it was wise not to finish that he was going to say. Preston raked a hand through his hair and began to quickly pick up his tools, his hands quivering in fear and anticipation. He dropped his stuff and let out a cry, "Fuck!" He was startled by a hand on his back and looked up to see David, who regarded him with kind eyes and a soothing smile.

"Don't worry, friend, I'll pick this up. You're clearly in a hurry."

"N-No, you don't have to!" Preston exclaimed.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to help you, Preston. Go on ahead." David nodded and gestured for Preston to scram. Preston nodded at him and forced a kind smile.

"It was nice seeing you, David! T-Thanks!" He ran out the door, looking back at David who cheerfully gathered the spilled screws and tools. He slammed into someone and fell to the ground, his knees scraping painfully on the floor and his jeans tearing. Tears flooded his eyes and obscured his vision as he grabbed his now-raw knees and groaned quietly in pain. It was like the universe wanted him to get the shit slapped out of him! Preston always had such shit luck.

"Watch where the fuck you're going!" Whoever he ran into snapped in anger. Preston shot up like a bullet and open to see he was looking into Max's striking blue-green eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and his face blushed pink as memories flooded back of Max's eyes and how Preston would admire them from afar, writing poetry about how they shone like the moon reflecting on Lake Lilac on a clear night. Max seemed equally as shocked as Preston to see the teenage boy.

For once, Preston was seemingly speechless. "M-Max?" He squeaked, his voice cracking high enough to nearly shatter the windows. Preston's ears burned as he cleared his throat and spoke in the deepest voice he could manage. "W-What the hell are you doing here, Max?!"

"I just moved here." Max shrugged, slowly climbing to his feet and dusting off his hoodie, "y'know, bumping into people is rude."

Preston ignored the smart-ass comment and focused on the fact that Max; the boy he crushed on as a child, now is living in the same town as him. He had thought originally that he'd never see Max again, but it seemed like he'd be seeing a lot of him lately. Preston needed more information here. Like, is he here with his parents? Why is David too, is this a coindence? He opened his mouth to ask these pressing questions, but only managed to regurgitate what Max had said seconds before right back at him.

"You just moved here?" Great fucking job, Preston thought, he's gonna hate you for being such an idiot.

"That's what I said." Max seemed amused, a smirk forming on his face at how he somehow turned Preston who never shut up into a silent, bright-red dork.

Preston's face was on fire right now, his gut tightening in an emotion he couldn't pinpoint at that time. Dread? Fear? Excitement? He had no clue.

"Did you see where David went? I turn away for one second and he's gone. It's like I'm watching a fucking toddler." Preston was silent, still processing Max's words. A new teacher in school along with a new asshole. Great. This wasn't on the script! "Hello?? Are you having a seizure?" Max waved his hand in Preston's face and he held back the urge to slap it away like a child when he heard him. His voice echoed down the hallway, filled with anger. Preston's gut dropped like he was on a roller coaster and he started to tremble slightly, rubbing the fresh bruises in fear. Max looked down at him, and then up at Nurf. The moment his cool eyes landed on the muscled bully his expression darkened.

"Where the hell are you, Preston?! You're LATE!" Nurf yelled, "I swear to god if I have to come down there and drag you out of that STUPID Theater I will LOSE MY SHIT!"

"Y-Yes, darling, I-I'm coming." Preston was normally proud and loud, but his voice came out as a weak chirp akin to a submissive animal crying out for help. He slowly rose to his feet, gathering his binder and papers up and forcing a smile. "N-Nice seeing you, Max, I have to go, as you see."

Max reached out to stop him, but hesitated. He didn't know what to do in this situation... So he let Preston go.


	2. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preston didn't expect his mornings to change as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so btw spoilers ahead for season 2
> 
> y'all 'm gonna add nightmares and flashbacks to the tag list. if either of those topics trigger you, please do not read this. Thank you!

It's too hot. The steam was too thick for him to see where the walls were. Preston tried laying on the ground in an attempt to get fresh air, but the wood under his feet was hot enough to burn his skin. He could barely breathe and his vision was growing dark at the edges. He tried to conserve energy by crouching on the ground, but it didn't help because he was sweating through the heavy fabric he had made his costume from. It was insulated and it began to overheat the boy.

_**Let go.** _

"Think, Preston, Think." He gasped, pulling at his hair in frustration. Preston looked around and could see the sun shining through the fog and he rushed to it, his hands colliding against the fogged glass. He ran his hands over it and peered through to see Daniel, David, and Max outside. Daniel was talking to David and Max was clearly trying to get David's attention. 

**_Do you want to be safe, too?_ **

He slammed his hands against it, screaming, using his last breath of air to try and beg for mercy. The voice was getting louder, repeating itself, asking Preston if he would like to reach ascension and be safe.

_**Don't you want to join your friends?** _

"Please! Someone help me!" He cried, frantically clawing the glass as if it would've done anything. He locked eyes with Max, who looked horrified as Preston slowly sunk down, too dizzy from lack of oxygen to stand any longer. The young boy lay on the too hot floor, listening to the voice in the loudspeaker talk to him, telling him the only person who would ever let him out of here was Daniel, his leader, his father, his savior.

_**Do you love Daniel?** _

"No." He rasped, beads of sweat rolling down his face. 

_**Do you want to be safe, too?** _

Preston coughed, his eyes rolling back in his head as the world faded into black.

* * *

_[A spotlight is shined on Preston who is sitting up in bed with ruffled hair. He looks horrified, his skin shining with sweat and his mouth in a silent scream.]_

Preston jolted awake, greedily gulping down cool air as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair that hung around his shoulders. Tears pooled in his eyes and he took a moment to cry into his hands, his breath hitching as he sobbed quietly. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them as if that would somehow contain the sadness and fear pent up inside him. He quivered, trying to calm his fleeting heart that unmercifully battered the inside of his ribcage like a panicked bird beating cage bars with its wings.

He didn't think anyone else remembered the "sauna" like he did. If they did, no one mentioned it, but after that happened Preston began to get nightmares and flashbacks to the smothering feeling and how the voice on the loudspeaker intruded his thoughts until the only thing he could focus on was being rescued by his savior. Even now he could see Daniel's ice blue eyes on him as if they could see past him and straight into his soul. It was violating, yet it seemed like everyone else didn't notice except Max who caught onto Daniel immediately.

When he exited that broiling room, he felt vulnerable and latched onto the man who apparently freed him from that Hell. Preston didn't remember the rest of that day well, but Daniel's manic eyes were still burned into his memory, along with the smile that was supposed to be happy, but it somehow looked evil and nothing like David's cheerful smile. Days after the incident, Preston couldn't help but flinch whenever David smiled at him after that day of torture.

Preston was suddenly cold to his core at the mere thought of those eyes on him once again. Preston looked around his room as if the cult leader was standing there, waiting, watching the teenage boy. Once he was sure that his room was clear of crazy religious men he got up and began peeling off his sweaty pajama shirt to go shower before his grandma woke up and got confused to where she was, and if she gets too confused it turns into fear. It seemed less like Preston caring for an adult, but a toddler who needed to be retaught everything every single day.

Although it was frustrating at times, Preston loved his grandma and figured this was his way to repay her for caring for him when he was a child all those years ago. Repaying her for all the food she bought him, how she would read him bedtime stories, and when she would watch illegal musical bootlegs with him although he knew that she couldn't hear what they were saying on stage. It touched young Preston, it helped make him determined to someday write a musical for her. He wouldn't waste his life away as a useless nobody, he'd be a star!

Preston is slowly losing his hope with each passing day. He realizes it isn't realistic and maybe he should grow up to just help out his grandma. Nurf even said he wasn't talented enough to go on stage, and he was beginning to believe him more and more. He was rusty and every time he sat down to write writing a script he would sit there staring at his typewriter. He was completely blocked mentally and he hasn't written anything since high school started two years ago.

He can't seem to do anything right lately.

Preston walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Nurf was right, he was pathetic looking. He was too skinny, his arms and legs seemed way too long for his body, his skin was pale; making the various bruises on his skin stand out like violet watercolor on white canvas. Preston winced as he ran a hand over the puffy bruises, remembering how Nurf had corrected him for being late that night. These were one of the worst punches Nurf has done to his boyfriend and it sure left behind some impressive marks.

He'd need to invest in some ice packs soon, or some makeup to cover it up because the bruises wrapping around his neck couldn't be hidden by anything in his closet.

He turned on the water, setting it to barely warm and showering, his teeth chattering as the cool water ran over overheated skin and chilled him. A normal person would turn the water to warm, but Preston hated the hotness on his skin, it reminded him of things that he preferred to push down, and don't even get him started on the steam. The school locker room was a nightmare, not only because people made fun of his figure and called him a fag, but because the steam from the open showers seemed to be on everything, even his gym clothes.

Preston used to sing in the shower when he was young, but now he can't even remember the last time he had done anything more than hum a song for the last two years. He opened his mouth, preparing to sing, but something stopped him. Was he... Scared? Why was he scared to sing to himself? What was stopping him? Preston felt his stomach clench at the mere thought of hearing himself sing. Did he have some pathetic form of stage fright where he was scared to hear himself?

Nurf was right, he was deplorable. A broken human being.

Preston glanced at the wall clock. It was time to get ready for the day and to get his grandma settled. He reluctantly got out of the shower and began to dry off.

After brushing his hair, getting dressed, and sorting his grandma's meds, he went into her bedroom to see her laying on her bed merely staring into space with her grey eyes that once held life and warmth but now radiated coldness. He swallowed heavily and spoke, a gentle smile gracing his soft features.

"Good morning, Grandma! Here are your meds for today!" He gave her the pills and a glass of water. She looked at him and the pills cupped in her hands, clearly puzzled to what's going on.

"Who are you and why are you mumbling?" She asked for the four hundredth time. Preston sighed and repeated himself louder. It was sad to see the woman who raised him after his parent's demise stare at him like he was a stranger. Still, Preston reminded himself that his grandma was ill and this wasn't her fault. Hate the sin, not the sinner, he thought.

"I'm Preston Goodplay, your grandson, gram-gram." He stared at her hopefully, praying to the theater gods that something would click and she would realize who he was. But although the theater gods were fabulous, they did not have mercy on the teenage boy and she still looked as confused as before. "Just- Just take your pills, please, I need to get to school." Thankfully she took them without a fight and sipped the water Preston usually kept on her nightstand.

"What do you want for breakfast, gram-gram?" He asked as he helped her hobble out to the kitchen table.

"What did you say?"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO EAT, GRAM-GRAM?!" Preston wasn't a patient person and having to repeat himself was like ripping out his fingernails or watching the main lead forget their lines on stage. Gram-gram smiled and asked for her daily breakfast of scrambled eggs and went into a story about how her father won't let her marry the boy she loved. This would be wholesome if it weren't that the boy she loved was his dead grandfather who had passed when he was eight. Yet, Preston humored her even though it hurt him to pretend someone as ignorant as gramp-gramp was still breathing.

"He is so handsome and charming- What's your name?" Preston looked up from his own plate of eggs and felt nothing but heartbreak and pity for the senile woman.

"'M Preston." He grunted through his mouthful of over-salted eggs, "you know this, gram-gram." No, she didn't, but he pretended she did and gram-gram made a simple mistake.

"Huh? Sweetheart, can you repeat that louder?"

"Preston! My name, Gram-gram, is PRESTON!" He shouted to her, "P-R-E-S-T-O-N! God!" Preston went back to scowling at his food and scraping it around the plate with his fork.

"Joshua, don't talk with food in your mouth!" She scolded him, sounding much like the woman she used to be long ago when he was young. Normally he'd be overjoyed to see bits of her returned, but not only did she use the wrong name, she called him his dead father's name. He wanted to correct her and tell her that he is Preston, and Joshua was dead... But he forced another smile and nodded, his appetite gone completely. The room was silent except for the distant birds chirping outside the window. 

Preston looked out as well and watched a squirrel piss off a lot of blue jays by stealing their sunflower seeds. They swooped down at him in an attempt to scare him, but the squirrel was clueless to their anger and just continued eating.

Soon the blue jays gave up and flew off to another house with a bird feeder and Preston locked eyes with the squirrel. Things were serene until his phone loudly rang, scaring away the squirrel and interrupting what was a beautiful moment. Preston knew who it was, but still looked at the caller i.d and hoped to the theatre gods that it wasn't him. Again, the theatre gods have blessed broadway with beautiful shows, but they seem to just want to make Preston Goodplay's life a little bit worse.

_Nurf <3 is calling..._

He picked it up and before he could say anything Nurf spoke loudly into the telephone.

"We're meeting up before school." It wasn't a request, but a demand. On the bright side, Nurf didn't sound angry at him and it pleased Preston. He smiled and looked back at his grandma who was staring out the large windows at the birds and sneaky squirrels eating from the bird seed dispensers he and his mom had made together a long time ago. You can clearly see who made which because Preston's was well made and his dear Mother might've been a talented singer, she was not good with nails and a hammer.

"Well, uh, I'm right now taking care of my grandmother-"

"She's old enough to take care of herself!" Nurf sounded annoyed and Preston forced himself to breathe deeply to keep himself from quivering, "so like, when will you stop being a buzzkill and get your ass over here, Preston?"

"I-I-" He swallowed heavily, "Give me a minute, okay, darling?" Preston said, defeated. Nurf groaned into the phone and Preston could practically hear his eyes rolling. Preston tried to make his voice soothing, but the shakiness could clearly be heard and it made Preston cringe. "I-I'll be quick, alright? I'll ju-just put Jeopardy on. She loves that show!"

"Hurry up, you know I'm not a patient man." That gave Preston instant chills down his spine, especially after what had happened the night before. "See you soon, babe." And Nurf hung up, leaving a very shell-shocked Preston standing there with his silent phone to his ear like an idiot.

After a few deep breaths, he shakily put his phone in his pocket, forced a smile and said to his dear gram-gram.

"Let's get you settled, I think Jeopardy is on!" She lifted a hand to her ear, "JEOPARDY, WOMAN, YOUR OLD PERSON SHOW IS ON!" This made gram-gram beam, her eyes lighting up for the first time in a while. She might've forgotten her grandson's name, but at least she could remember how much she loved Jeopardy. After escorting her to the den and getting her in her favorite chair, he surrounded her with puzzles, adult coloring books, novels, snacks... All the things old people needed to survive and left her in there, locking the den door behind him.

It was terrible, but gram-gram had a tendency to wander off and get lost. Plus, she'd be okay, right? There was a bathroom connected in the den and Jeopardy usually kept her busy for a while. She wouldn't even realize she was locked into the den!

Guilt bubbled in his stomach, yet Preston pulled his shoes on and shouted "be good gram-gram" before exiting the house and locking the front door behind him.

He checked the time and he was right on time. He exhaled in relief, happy that he wasn't late for anything and he could go through another normal day. He was just about to put his earbuds in when he heard David calling his name. Preston paused and looked around, confused to why he was apparently hallucinating David's voice. Like jeez, why was the voice in his head his teacher and not a hot celebrity. 

Preston noticed a man standing in a yard overrun by plants waving at him. he walked over to see it was David excitedly waving and calling his name. 

"Good morning, Preston!" David greeted him with a smile so sweet Preston could feel his teeth begin to rot, "I hope you slept well!"

Preston lied, "Yes, I slept fabulously, David." 

"I see you're walking to school! A great way to get exercise!" Great, now David was talking to Preston about fitness. Preston rolled his amber eyes and began to explain that walking to school was something he dreaded, especally during cold/hot seasons.

"Well, it's not MY personal choice of transportation but-"

"I'll drive you to school, then!" David interjected. Preston paused for a beat before insisting that he's fine with walking to school but David persisted, "I'm about to go to the school in a minute, so I might as well! Plus, who doesn't want another travel buddy? The more the merrier!" He chortled, his eyes gleaming with pure glee. Preston was impressed that even after six years David still hadn't lost his childlike joy. 

Preston was envious of his joviality.

"As Andy Warhol said; "Two's a party!"

"I... Don't think he said that." Preston began, but David had randomly run to his front door and opened it to talk to someone Preston couldn't see from where he was standing. He was puzzled, but it quickly melted away into bewilderment when David started dragging the one and only Max out of the yellow house. Preston and Max locked eyes. The black haired boy gave him a smug look, clearly amused by how they kept popping up in each other's life. 

"C'mon kids, it's time to get you to school!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, the parts that are like [the stage is blah blah] does not mean Preston's in a play. This is all real. I only put that to be cool and unique, haha. If they seem silly, just tell me.


	3. Cold Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories bubble to the surface as Max notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I lost most of my save so this is another slightly rushed version of the original chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> Not beta read because I'm garbage.

"Sorry boys, you'll have to squeeze in the back! The seatbelt in the front doesn't work properly and our first priority is safety, isn't that right, Max?" David elbowed Max, who looked liked the personification of a thunderstorm next to possibly the most cheerful person to ever exist.

It was amazing to see how they seemingly didn't change much except Max had grown his hair out and had some ear piercings. Preston never was a fan of the "edgy" style, but he did admit that Max looked pretty good when he looked at Preston and spoke to him, crossing his arms over and chest and looking Preston up and down as he waited for the fellow teenager to respond to what he was saying before and-

"Oh!" Preston snapped out of his fog and looked down, playing with the fringed seam of his shirt, "Do you mind repeating that?" He spoke softly as if Max would lash out at him for not paying attention like a certain person would.

"Don't look so scared. I won't bite," Max smirked as he climbed into the ridiculously cramped backseat of David's car.

"I know that!" Preston exclaimed, embarrassed by Max's statement and how he smirked like a cat who got the cream, "M-Move over, you _simpleton_!" And with that Preston was stuck in the backseat of a car that looked like it was about to break into pieces at any minute. He was actually brushing shoulders with Max, who leaned against the window and looked out and waited for David to get going. Preston inhaled deeply and followed suit just as David got in the front seat and started the car. 

"Whatever you do, Preston, do _not_ trigger one of David's long-ass stories." Max looked at him out of the corner of his eye, "If you get him talking, he won't fucking stop no matter what."

"Now now, Max! Not all my stories are long-winded! I'll have you know that in my years of going to Camp Camp I've seen some pretty interesting things." David scolded the boy, peering into the rearview mirror to give him a stern, yet amused look. Max simply shrugged and went back to leaning against the window, glaring out as if he was pissed at the world and everything. 

Nothing new for Max, it seemed. Preston grinned, his normally dull eyes glittering with good-natured mischief as he leaned forward and asked the man rather loudly: "Like what, David?"

"No!" Max groaned, Preston sat back and laughed evilly as David cleared his throat to prepare a long-ass story. Max raised a hand and made the other boy freeze, blood draining from his face as Max playfully punched him in the shoulder. Max wasn't _smiling_ or anything, but he sure didn't look as hateful as he did before when he looked at Preston; who tried to calm his fleeting heart and forced a tremulous smile, pretending like he didn't almost piss himself right there and then.

"Oh, like the time I was swimming in Lake Lilac with a close friend and I was face to face with a GIGANTIC bass about the size of a-" They let David prattle on in the front seat while they 'listened' in the back. Max was looking at a very stressed Preston who was trying his best to pull his shirt up to hide the bruises on his neck, now realizing how much they were showing.

"So, you're still with Nurf?" Max asked Preston, his eyes darting from Preston's eyes tinged with stress and fear to the discoloration that suspiciously looked like hands around his throat. At Preston's hesitant smile and nod, Max scoffed, "He's such a tool. You deserve better." David gasped from the front, looking at Max through the rearview mirror like a disapproving parent.

"Max! Don't talk about another former Camp Campbell Camper like that!" 

"It's true though, look at the bruises on Preston, he's probably fucking hitting him!" Max gestured towards his neck, pointing out the violet bruises.

Preston panicked, covering the marks with his hand and squeaking out excuses for Nurf. "He's very stressed right now, Max. Don't ASSUME something's w-wrong when it's fine, it's none of your business!" He replied coldly, crossing his arms and staring angrily at Max. "You don't see how he is on a good day, he can be quite the gentlemen, unlike SOME people I know."

"Yeah? How often does he have good days, Preston?" Max argued back, leaning in until they were about nose to nose. Preston flinched and cowered back towards the car door. The angry expression on Max's face melted into frustration as he huffed and crossed his arms. He would sneak a glance at Preston; who looked like he was going to throw up any second. 

"Children! Children!" David was nervously sweating and he clearly didn't know how to deal with this. He used to work with kids who would scrape their knees and get sunburns, not hormonal teenagers with possibly abusive partners! "Max, later we'll talk about this, okay?" Max sucked his teeth and went back to looking out the window and hating the world. Preston's clammy hands were clenched on his lap as he struggled to breathe evenly. If Nurf figured out that Max knew, he'd hurt Max. Preston knew it and would do anything to prevent it from happening. 

It was okay for Nurf to hit him because he was sorry after and loved Preston. It seemed like Nurf _thought_ he was doing the right thing by hitting him, which Preston was thankful for. As long as Nurf thought it was okay, it was okay. It wasn't as if Nurf _liked_ hurting him, anyway, so it made sense. Preston would always be loaded with flowers and treats after as an apology, and while he wasn't the most forgiving to others, he couldn't say no to Nurf. 

There was a silence filled with the sound of Preston's shaky breathing and David's hands tapping the beat to the Camp Campbell theme song on the steering wheel. The theater lover went to look out the window when to his horror he noticed it was _fogged_. Preston's hands shook as he began to toy with the edge of his frayed shirt, trying to push down the feeling of someone wrapping their hand around his throat and squeezing the pale flesh, bruising it. His heartbeat thudded in his ears as he watched Max begin to lazily draw in the fog on the windows, leaving lines and swirls in what was a blank slate of a window.

**"Submit.** **"** Preston remembered the smothering heat, how the room felt so small despite it being medium sized, the steam, how he felt streaks on the glass as he slowly slumped to the floor, the heat against his clothing and how the scratchy fabric stuck to his skin. He would scream and all that would answer was an echo as he frantically pawed at the glass.

He shivered.

"Stop the car," He rasped. David looked at him through the rearview mirror, not quite sure Preston said what he thought he said. "Stop the car!" Preston repeated louder. Max and David shared a look before the older man obeyed, slowing to a stop so Preston could get out.

"Preston, please, get back in the car." David pleaded with him as he climbed out, "It's cold and-"

"I'll be fine." Preston said, his voice colder than the fall air outside, "Just go." He slammed the car door behind him and watched as the piece of shit car zoomed away until he couldn't see it anymore. Only then Preston felt like he could breathe, the tightness in his throat forgotten as he slumped onto the filthy sidewalk, trying to wipe away the images of fingerprints on fog and how Max seemed to see right through his facade.

Max was something else, and it _terrified_ him how he could still act like his normal cocky, asshole self even after all these years and Preston was a failure of a person with silly dreams he knew he couldn't ever reach.

Preston pulled his phone from his pocket and shakily dialed a number, praying once again to the Theatre gods that they kept their childhood number throughout the years. It wasn't likely, but it was one of the only options Preston had unless he called Nurf and got slapped for calling him for a ride, plus he didn't want to bother his beloved since he was too sensitive to even ride in a car.

"H-Hello?" Harrison mumbled in the phone, clearly trying to keep his voice down. "Who's this?"

"Thank god you answered!" Preston laughed, "Harrison, are you at school or something?"

"Preston? Woah, I- Uh, my school is having a teacher service day, so no." Harrison murmured and Preston could hear something in the background, "W-Why are you calling me? What's going on? Are you okay? How did you know my number?" Harrison asked a lot of questions that Preston honestly didn't have the time to answer.

"So, you're free?"

"Yeah, can you tell me why?" A pause, "Shit, my parents heard me up and now they're hiding from me." Harrison chuckled sadly, "well, at least they let me use the car whenever I want since they're terrified of me." He sighed, a faint crackling as he forcefully exhaled into his phone microphone. 

"C-Can you drive me to school, please? I'm going to be late if you don't and I just-" He can't imagine how Nurf would react to him being late two times in a row, "I CAN'T be late, Harrison! You're only like, thirty minutes away and I can't get there on foot!" 

"Oh. Okay, I guess? Where are you?" Preston smiled and told him, thanking him profusely for doing this for him, which Harrison dismissed, saying that he needed someone to practice sawing in half. Preston chuckled nervously and hung up his phone, waiting for his old friend to come assist him in this one task. Maybe to repay the young magician, he'd let Harrison make him disappear.

* * *

 

Preston watched as the school inched closer, students mulled around outside as they waited for the bell to ring so they can enter the school. 

"'s no problem, Preston." Harrison scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "don't worry about it. It's nice to... See you again, you know?" Preston smiled as they inched forward, the traffic in the drop-off area absolute hell. Preston impatiently tapped his fingers on the car door, nibbling his lip as he scanned the area outside for any sign of Nurf. He wasn't late yet, but he was inching closer to the time they had set.

"Who are you meeting?" 

"Oh." Preston hesitated, "my boyfriend, N-" He didn't want to say his name because it seemed that everyone remembered the "incident' with the platypus eggs. So Preston kept his mouth shut and observed how Harrison bit back a smile at the words, "You're not homophobic, are you?" Preston doubted he was, but you can never be sure, it seemed.

"Homophobic?" Harrison parroted awkwardly as if that was his first time saying that word and it rested awkwardly on his tongue "Me? No. No, no, no! I-I'm not homophobic, Preston." Another stifled smile as he scratched at the stubble beginning to sprout on his chin. Preston tilted his head at the boy's strange behavior but decided to ignore it. As someone who used to be a performer, he knew that you could be weird to other people at times.

They finally inched to the front of the line and Preston got out, waving at Harrison who slowly began to drive away. 

Good kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I love Harrison. Do you guys even get it?
> 
> He's just a side character and won't pop up too much in this story, sadly, but enjoy it when he does!!


	4. Aside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a lot of writer's block during this chapter and it's a bit rushed at the end because I just need to move onto the next chapter as soon as possible lol.

 Preston leaned against the wall as Nurf stood in front of him, a small smile on his face as they spoke about part-time jobs.

"I might get a job at the car shop." Nurf grinned, "They weren't going to consider hirin' me at first, but after I lifted two- no, three car batteries in one hand, they changed their mind and looked over my resume." Preston chuckled, reaching out to squeeze Nurf's arm playfully as if he was feeling up his muscles.

"THREE batteries?" Preston realized he should ask Nurf to help him with the stage, as Preston had pathetic noodle arms and Nurf could somehow lift three car batteries. Nurf nodded, clearly proud that his boyfriend was talking about his strength. "Maybe later you could help lift some pallets for the stage with me since you're so strong, huh?" Preston looked up expectantly and was surprised as Nurf's face darkened, his eyes narrowing and what used to be a prideful smile melted away.

"What did I say about wastin' your time on that stupid stage, Preston? You should get a job as a waiter or something so we can put our funds in a joint account and save for the future!" Preston just stared at the man, slack-jawed. "What about our future sons? Our future home?!" He barked, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You're really fucking stupid sometimes, babe, and I'm tired of being the one to set you straight."

Preston fidgeted with the frayed seams of his shirt. "Y-Yeah, but, darling. I can do both! I'll get a job, fix the stage, and take care of my grandmother all at once!" Preston looked down at his feet, "sorry for putting so much strain on you, sweetheart, but I love the stage. I-It's my passion."

There was a tense silence between the two. Preston braced himself for impact but flinched once instead of a hand colliding with his face, Nurf sighed and spoke. Preston looked up to see Nurf standing back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. I'm not helping you waste your time, though, I'll let you work on that fucking stage if you insist, babe, because I love you." Nurf kissed him on the cheek, igniting a fire across Preston's face as Nurf put his arms on either side of his head, trapping him between the wall and his body. Before he knew it, Nurf was leaning in for a kiss and Preston tried not to cringe in revulsion.

"Can we not kiss in front of people? Do we need an audience, Nurf?" Ironic that Preston Goodplay would be the one to say that. He assumed it wasn't an unreasonable request, but Nurf visibly stiffened, his eyes opening at glare at Preston.

"Are you fucking serious?" Nurf snapped, "can't I just kiss my boyfriend without being judged for once, Preston?"

Preston looked down timidly and sighed dismissively, "Fine, whatever, let's kiss, then."  
An uneven smile stretched his face as he leaned in, his eyes slowly drifting shut as Preston grew closer. They kissed, Nurf eagerly deepening the kiss as Preston clenched his eyes shut and tried his best not to push him off right there. Preston was not enjoying himself right now, and he normally didn't when they kissed. He realized people could be staring at them right now and he wouldn't even know.

Nurf's hands began to roam, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt and moving down as they found their way to Preston's narrow hips, squeezing hard as if to remind the boy of the bruises just beginning to fade away. Preston groaned and tried to pull away, tears forming in the corner of his eyes from the pain. Nurf pulled him in closer, trapping him in this hellish embrace.

He knew he couldn't fight off his boyfriend because this is normal, right? It's okay to not want to kiss because it was just a kiss and as long as it made Nurf happy, it was all good. Preston just wanted Nurf to be happy because he loved him and when Nurf was happy, things were good, and when he wasn't, things went downhill fast.

Their passionate embrace was interrupted by the bell ringing and they broke apart, both gasping for air. Preston stepped away, his cheeks bright red and his lips kiss-bruised. He turned to see the one and only Max standing a few yards away glaring at Nurf with a mixture of disgust and hatred. His gaze lazily shifted to Preston before he pulled his hood on and walked away, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Why was he so upset about Preston kissing his boyfriend? 

Preston shook it off because he had better things to worry about like not being late to the class he had managed to replace Study hall with. He was going to Music class taught by the one and only David, the overly cheerful man he and the rest of the children mocked and teased during his childhood. He felt a bit of guilt for some of the things they did, like tying him up and attempting to use him as measurements to build Ered a skateboarding ramp.

He smiled to himself as he began to lope down the hallway, excited to see how David could manage to handle a classroom full of hormonal teenagers determined to ruin each other's life with ruthless gossip.

He entered the music class to see that David had decorated the room with pictures of Camp Campbell and nature. Each wall seemed to be filled with a blurry picture of him in front of something in nature, or pictures of the kids when they were young campers. Preston locked eyes with a blurry picture of him standing next to Max, Neil, and Nikki. David had forced them to take this picture, Max complained that Preston was a loser, while Preston pretended to be so offended that David dare try to get a picture of Preston Goodplay next to a moron like Max.

He didn't actually think that, but he had to act like he did because everyone pretended to hate each other during summer camp. He didn't understand why, but that's what they did, and Preston desperately wanted to have friends. 

Preston tore his gaze away from the picture and looked around the classroom, observing the bored teenagers mingling and texting. David who sat at his desk looking slightly dejected. He noticed Preston and perked up, motioning for him to come over and talk to him. Preston shrugged and sidled up to the teacher's desk, noting how neat and prim it looked. His papers were neatly stacked and a small cactus was freshly watered.

"Hello, Preston!" David seemed to have forgotten what had happened the day before and Preston was grateful for that, "I'm happy you were able to move classes! Did the office tell you that I actually suggested that you should be transferred into my class?"

"You suggested me? Why?" Preston imagined he'd be angry at him, or not want to be around him anymore after his freak out.

"Well," David inhaled deeply, "As you probably know, I moved here with Max after uh, adopting him, and he doesn't have many friends here. I figured since he knew you from Camp Campbell, you two could be friends!" Preston swallowed, his hands finding their way to the edge of his frayed yellow shirt as he toyed with it. Max hated him and David was too naive to see it.

Preston also knew he couldn't refuse since David still thought there was a chance for friendship between the two. The teenager knew better, because why would someone ever want to be friends with him? He's such an idiot and needs to be taught what's normal like a toddler would. Stupidly, Preston nodded; causing David to visibly light up like a christmas tree at his response.

"He's right over there! Go say Hi! Socialize!" David pointed to Max who was sulking in the corner and gave Preston a little shove. The lanky boy stumbled forward and began to make his way towards the angsty teen. He gingerly took a seat in the chair next to him. Max didn't look up from whoever he was texting on his phone. Preston cleared his throat, startling Max slightly.

"Hey." Preston greeted him stiffly, causing Max to look up to him, silently scowling, "How are you liking the new school so far, Maxwell?"

Max turned to look at him, his eyes dim as he scoffed at Preston, "Can we not start with the fucking small-talk?" Max crossed his arms over his chest, "let's dive right into the main issue here. How long have you been abused by Nurf, huh? Six years now?" Preston's expression twisted from nervousness to anger as he leaned in, almost nose-to-nose with Max.

"Shut the fuck up." Preston hissed, "this isn't about me, or your fucked up need to ruin my relationship. This is for David, you asshole! He asked me to be buddy-buddy with you so he didn't feel bad for you. Can't we just pretend things are good between us, Maxwell?" For once, Max didn't shoot back with an insult. He just blinked in surprise at Preston's sudden anger. Even Preston seemed surprised by this outburst and flushed red, meekly toying with the frayed hem of his shirt.

"Whatever," Max grumbled, slumping in his seat and turning his attention back to his phone, "hopefully David leaves us the fuck alone. I don't want to talk to someone who lets someone beat on them like that." Preston's face pinked in anger, yet he just let out a shaky sigh and sat back, willing himself not to cry from frustration towards the boy that barely reached 5'4" tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet.

"Good morning, Class!" David leaped from his chair, stretching his arms above his head, "How is everyone on this fine day?" The teenagers looked at him over their phone screens, their eyes glazed with the farthest thing from interest towards the energetic man who was desperately trying to get the kids to like him, "I'm Mr. Luna, but that's what they call my father. So just call me David, kids!"

The only sound in the classroom was the sound of fingers hitting phone screens. Preston was the only one actually here to learn about music. The other kids assumed since it was a new teacher, they could get away with not paying attention.

  
David began to sweat nervously, his smile strained as he tried to involve the kids and get them excited about music. He ran a hand through his auburn hair and scanned the room like he was searching for something to say.

"W-Why don't we go around the room and introduce ourselves!" No one even looked up and David seemed to visibly snap, "Alright, I didn't want to do this, but you guys are forcing my hand here! So," David emptied a small basket of apples and held it out, "Everyone put their phone or mobile device in this basket!" The class collectively groaned as David walked up and down the aisles taking phones and causing about twelve teenagers to wish for his death.

Preston looked down at the clunky, brick-like phone stuffed in his pocket and gulped. He needed it. His grandma's Life Alert was hooked to it. Sometimes the alerts were false alarms; like he got one in Physics from her figuring out her necklace is a button that activates something, or in one case she actually did fall and remembered to press the button. If he gave it up, it might mean something bad could happen to the only person he has left and he wouldn't even know.

David held out the basket to Max, who ignored him and continued to text someone on his phone.

“Max? Your phone, please!” David nudged his phone with the basket, earning a glare from the boy, “I will not ask you twice.”

“Fuck off, David.” Max snapped. David blinked in surprise.

“Language!”

Max looked up and they looked at each other for a second. Their expressions of determination didn't shift as they just looked at one another. Preston watched as they seemed to reach an understanding and Max secretly slipped his phone into his pocket. David smiled, satisfied, and he moved to Preston's desk, holding out the basket and waiting for a sacrifice.

“I-” Preston hadn’t properly acted in a long time, yet he mustered up skills he had learned as a child and lied to David’s face, “I don’t have a phone.”

Max snickered quietly next to him, yet Preston didn’t tear his gaze from David’s. He was so scared of being found out, but he just hid his fear and acted like he was the only kid in the class without a phone. He knew he would be pegged the poor kid, but he  _needed_ to have this device on him at all times.

David opened his mouth to say something, and Preston braced himself for the trouble he'd get in for lying to a teacher's face.

“Oh! That’s okay, Preston! Thanks for cooperating without a fight!” David smiled and ruffled his hair before walking up to the front row to begin telling the class who he is and what he did before he managed to somehow get a job at this “wonderful” school.

Preston stared at the chipped desk now covered in the doodles of students that likely went here long before he did. The desk was dirty, the metal legs growing rust, and the plastic chair was worn. Yet one thing stood out on the desk, something crisp and clean, white and pure.

He shivered at the whiteness, remembering how the man came in with unnatural, pasty white skin and platinum hair, telling the campers they were unclean and in need of purification.

Preston snapped out of it as Max nudged his chair with a worn sneaker.

The thing standing out on the desk was a folded note. It was an unsigned, blank piece notebook paper. Preston’s heart fluttered in his chest as he wondered what was in it. A love letter? A quote from a musical, perhaps? It was unlikely, but Preston was a dreamer. 

 **M: “I can see the outline of your phone in your pocket, fucker.”** He was greeted by unusually neat handwriting. He looked at Max, who shot him a mischievous smirk. Preston’s cheeks dusted pink because no one's ever written him a note before. If he hadn't read so many romantic young adult novels pretty much explaining how to pass notes, he wouldn't know what to do next.

 _P: “Please don’t tell, Max.”_ He swiftly passed the note back to Max, who stealthily responded.

**M: “Why shouldn’t I? I gave up my phone like a good person, but you lied.”**

_P: “Because you’re not a good person, Max. You know this"_

**M: “True. My only question is, Prestie, why did you lie to David?”**

_P: “That’s none of your business, Maxwell.”_

**M: “As a good person, I think it’s my business to tell the teacher that good ol’ Prestie is a liar.”**

_P: “O thou vile one! What do you want? I don't have money if that's what you want."_

**M: “I want to make a deal.”**

Preston gulped and hesitated before scrawling his response.

_P: “What type of deal?”_

**M: “David made sure we’re in most of the same classes since he’s worried that I’ll be lonely without you. I don’t want to be your friend, you don’t want to be mine, we’re on the same page, but he’s going to put a** **word in with our teachers to pair us together in any projects we have to do together.”**

_P: “So? Why are you telling me this??”_

**M: “Because you’re going to have to all/most of the work and claim we did it equally.”**

Preston nearly gasped, but he managed to hold it back so he could write back without getting caught by David, who was currently writing the notes to the Camp Campbell song on the chalkboard. He winced, remembering the cheesy song before turning his attention back to the paper now filling with scribbles.

_P: “All this for not ratting me out for the phone?”_

**M: “I could do worse than that, Preston.”**

_P: “Like what, Maxie? I don’t have any nudes, most of my online profiles are private, and I have no friends. What could you possibly blackmail me with? Oh, that's right, nothing."_

**M: “I could tell David that Nurf is abusing you. I know you don’t want that, so will you take the deal, Prestie?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max has a plan.


	5. Come Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are changing.

_[Preston paces through his room, clearly frazzled. He glares at an open laptop on his desk.]_

Writer's block is a bitch, Preston knew that, but now he is not only on a deadline, he has to write both his and Max's Honors English essays on a summer reading book he hadn't been able to finish yet due to him having to take care of an elderly woman who's memory is withering more and more by the day. 

After reading a summary of the book online and figuring out the basic plot, he tried his hardest to get at least his half of the essay done for the night, but writer's block was cluttering his brain and making it impossible to think or write or exist in general.

Now he walked around his room, clutching his hair and groaning loudly.

Preston did not have the time or patience to wait until he got an idea. The fate of his relationship weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Preston did not have the time or patience to wait until he got an idea. The fate of his relationship weighed heavy on his shoulders, along with both his and Max's grades. He heaved a heavy sigh and sat back at his desk once again and waited for ideas to come to mind. After ten minutes of staring at a blank screen, he began to angrily pace once again.

Knock, knock!

"Who the fuck would be knocking on the door at seven forty on a school night?" Preston mumbled to himself. He left his room and began down the hallway, praying that the knocking didn't wake up his grandma. He passed her door, taking a moment to press his ear against the wood to try and hear her moving about. He sighed once he heard nothing and continued to the front door.

He slung it open to see Max standing there with a plate of cookies and a look of pure hatred on his face. Preston's cheeks burned pink as Max look in his bedraggled expression and his blue boxers with pale yellow stars all over them. Max averted his eyes, clearly embarrassed by Preston's state of undress. "David sent me," Max explained, holding out the cookies cut into trees with bright green frosting. "He says it's better to work on school work face to face, not through screens. I think that's bullshit, but..." He shrugged.

"Whatever happened to your rebellion, huh?" Preston smirked, leaning in the doorway; his arms crossed across his chest to try and stay warm. "I thought you'd never obey David, Maxwell." Max rolled his eyes and thrusted the plate of cookies towards Preston aggressively.

"Just- take these. David is probably watching us through the window right now." Preston looked over Max's head to see a David-like figure standing at a window. "I'm freezing my ass off out here.”

“Fine, just be quiet, Maxwell, my grandmother is asleep and I don’t want to have to put her back to bed if you wake her up.” Max gave him an odd lock, but Preston didn’t want to explain, so he stepped aside and let him in. Max walked in, his sneakers wet from the dewy grass squeaking on the hardwood floor. Preston gasped, disgusted by how Maxwell could ruin the floor he had mopped a few hours before.

“Take your shoes off, you absolute _moron_! I just mopped the floors!” Preston snapped, pointing at his wet sneakers and the trail he had tracked in, "Max, thought you had common fucking sense!"

“Yeah, yeah, sorry mom.” Max grumbled, kicking off his shoes and chucking them at an irate Preston, who scrambled to catch them before they hit the floor and wake up his grandmother.

Preston lead Max to his room, dramatically opening the door with a flourish to show off his disappointing excuse for a room. Max looked surprised at how bare his room was. He had seemed to expect it to be as flamboyant as the boy himself, but Preston had sold his bed-frame a while ago, and all the musical posters too in an emergency yard sale after his grandma broke her finger and they couldn’t afford the medical bill. The only furniture in his room was his desk and chair, mattress on the floor, and his dresser.

The only thing decorating the walls of his room was one particular Polaroid Preston didn't want Max to see! He practically pushed Max out of the way to tear it off the wall and hide it in his sock drawer, giggling uncontrollably. Oddly, Max didn’t question his behavior, he simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He sat in Preston’s tattered office chair and scoffed at the lack of work on the document.

“This is absolute shit. Did you even read the book, Preston?” Max sneered. Preston fidgeted with the shirt, silent, “Wait, you actually didn’t?” He was actually shocked by this. Preston glared at him as Max shook his head in disappointment, "Jesus fucking Christ, Preston. I was joking before, but I can't believe you of all people would skip on reading a book!" Preston did love books as a kid, plays were his favorite, but he no longer had time for them.

“Yeah, and you did?" He retorted, hands on hips. Max spun around in the chair to stare at him, leering. 

"Yeah, I did. I did it during a road trip, as a matter of fact." Preston snorted. Max looked so proud of himself, but all he could imagine was him scrunched in his seat reading while David pointed out trees passing by. It was hilarious to think about Max and David together as a family, even if it made his gut twist. 

Was he envious?

"What?" Max asked. Preston shook his head, his smile faltering slightly, _"What_ are you laughing about?" Preston began to nibble on a cookie, admiring how Max's eyes widened when he was embarrassed or flustered. It was endearing to watch him get riled up. 

“Did you guys go to look at trees or somethm’?” 

“Are you using Sparknotes for the story?” Max dodged the question, clicking through the 10+ tabs the boy had opened during his quest to find the plot to the story. Preston let out a grunt in response and hovered over Max, making sure he didn’t open meatspin or something to ruin his laptop. “Where’s your copy of the book?” Max didn't look away from the screen, which lit his face up and made him almost look supernatural.

Preston blinked away the beginnings of a daydream and nodded, slowly shuffling to the corner of his room where he backpack laid. He began to rummage through it, talking to Max about how his binder had simply fallen apart in his backpack and buried all his stuff in paper. Max made noncommittal noises once in a while towards the things Preston rambled about, and although he knew Max didn't care, it was nice to talk to someone who would at least pretend to listen.

“Found it!” Preston exclaimed, beginning to leaf through the book in search for the page he had stopped at. He heard his phone buzz on the table and sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Nurf would get pissed if he didn't answer, but he needed to work on this with Max or they'd flunk. Plus. he'd answer in a few minutes anyway. It can't be _that_ important!

"Preston," Max said, Preston hummed in response, eyes skimming the pages of the long-ass book, "It says you have an alert from your grandma." Preston felt his blood go cold, his breath hitching. He threw the book down and scrambled out of the room, rushing down the hallways and to his grandmother's room. He threw the door open to see her in a heap on the floor, unconscious. 

“Gram-gram!” Preston threw himself onto the floor next to her, trying to check her pulse with quivering hands, "s-she's breathing. She'll be alright, right!?" Preston was frantic, his breathing matching the tempo of his fleeting heart. He heard footsteps behind him and saw Max's shadow cast over the two. The short teen swore under his breath as he dialed 9-1-1. Max talked to the operator the whole time, while Preston hunched over his guardian and cried. 

Sirens drew closer, red and blue flashing in through the windows. Max sat next to him, hugging his knees to his chest. Preston didn't miss the fear on Max's face at the sound of the sirens approaching. Preston knew he could never understand why Max was scared, or what memory kept flashing through his head at the sound of the sirens, but he was scared too for many different reasons. Stupidly, Preston reached out and grabbed Max's hand, squeezing tightly. 

Max recoiled, but didn't reject his hand. He held on tight. Even as they stood on Preston's porch watching the paramedics put the stretcher in the ambulance, Max squeezed his hand tight. David put a hand on Preston's shoulder as they watched the ambulance roll away with his only remaining family member inside. They had said that it was pretty touch-and-go right now, and to not expect anything. Preston tried not to worry, but he knew that if she died... He'd be alone. 

"Preston, do you want to stay with us until she's better?" David asked him, his face devoid of his usual grin. Preston didn't want to be alone, but he also didn't want to bother the two so he shook his head, "Are you sure?" He'd be alone, but it's his punishment for letting his only caretaker get hurt. 

"I'll be fine!" Preston plastered a small smile to his face, "I'll just... Finish this essay!" He forced a chuckle. David nodded, seemingly convinced. Max clearly wasn't, and opened his mouth to protest but stopped. He didn't know what to say.

"You have a good night now, Preston." David said, kneeling down slightly to look him in the eyes, "you'll call us if anything changes with your grandmother's condition, right?"

"Yeah, I will." Preston agreed. After a tight hug from David, they walked back across the street to their house, Max looked over his shoulder once in a while to see Preston trying not to fall apart right there and then. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and after his wiped his tears, he pulled it out to see 10 missed calls from Nurf. He broke out into a cold sweat as he called Nurf back, expecting to be screamed at.

"Hey, babe?" Nurf sounded upset. 

"Darling, are you okay?" Preston breathed into the phone. Nurf sniffled loudly, clearly hiding the fact that he was crying. 

"My mom- uh, she..." Nurf chuckled humorlessly, "She got arrested again. Shoplifting. Can I-"

"Do you want to stay with me, darling?" Preston asked, leaning against the wooden porch railing. 

"Ye-yeah." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyyyyy i tried

**Author's Note:**

> I love nice comments! :)
> 
> Plus, if you have any tips on writing these characters let me know because I'm SO bad at writing that it hurts,


End file.
